


And Giants Walked the Earth

by Slack



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, eventual sick!fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 20:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4194546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slack/pseuds/Slack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Often, if Helena's displacement in time is mentioned in fanfiction, she is often confused by modern colloquialisms and sayings; this is all well and good, as it can often be quite cute, but how could it possibly be one sided? So here we have Victorian VS. The World.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Currently Third person/Steve centric POV, likely to change in future chapters)
> 
> Also, let's see who can spot all the Victorian slang! Bonus points for definitions!

It's a good 30 minutes into breakfast when Steve, of all people notices Helena's absence.

"Hey, shouldn't we save a plate for that...lady-?" 

He avoids using the words 'new' or 'former agent, but everyone else's minds are elsewhere. It doesn't take him long to notice his companions' varying emotions, from guilt to realized resignation. Her starts to get it, too; they'd all tricked themselves into not expecting her to be there, he thought. And with a quick glance to Myka, some better than others. 

He observes how Myka does not spend as much time internalizing her guilt as say, Claudia. She's soon to saying-

"Do you think she's okay? Should I go check on her?" 

Steve likes to think of himself as good at reading Claudia, a barely-20-year-old-girl. They are partners, after all-he says to himself-so perhaps that's why he's so attentive and unsettled by Myka's juvenile reaction. It's not like her, and he doesn't quite know or like where this is going. 

Thankfully, he doesn't quite have to.

"I'm sure she's fine, Mykes."

"I'll make some tea, Myka, would you like some?"

Steve gains a little insight, as he notices Pete and Leena's simultaneous reactions; Pete's forced calm seems almost aggressive. He doesn't believe he's being unjust in his inference that Pete might punish whoever this woman was, should she be in any sort of trouble.

And Leena-oh, Leena. Steve liked Leena. But her reaction was so very LEENA that Steve only detects sympathetic caring towards both women.

"Did one of you lot mention tea?"

A British accent croaks, padding into the dining room, and Steve finally sees the Warehouse's mystery woman. 

He's a bit surprised, seeing her disheveled appearance after hearing of her charm, but he takes a slight comfort in realizing this is a new sight to all. 

"Yes, Helena; how nice to see you this morning!"

Leena didn't miss a beat--and Steve is so impressed with her lack of passive-aggression that he nearly doesn't notice Myka's 'intense eyes', as Claudia once called them.

Before replying to Leena's welcome, "Helena" leans almost imprecisely upon the wall, and, raising one hand to her chest and the other to her face, daintily clears her throat. Steve's seen women in old movies do that before, where they clutch their chest in either dismay or restraint. He can't help but think it's almost endearing, and at the very least, curious.

"Now, don't sell me a dog, Leena dear; I shall be ever so disappointed should you do so."

To his right, Claudia rolls her eyes and shows fond relief at the woman. Steve wonders if she's always this...different? He's heard that she'd been bronzed, but for how long? Why? He gets the impression that it's not a freely granted amenity, to put it gently. 

Pete comes skittering back with an ungainly wooden chair that he places in between Myka and Steve; 

"For HG, our lady of the house!" He announces and gestures towards the seat; Steve can detect a sweet flicker of surprise in HG-it seems far less personal to refer to her with her initials, rather than 'Helena'-'s face, but she seems exhausted to do more than give a weak, genuine smile. 

"Why, what a gallant gal-sneaker, Agent Lattimer; thank you."

She sinks into the seat while remaining stiff poise.

"Pardon my discourtesy; to toddle past introductions, you must be Steve?"

This is when he realizes he's talking to her. He doesn't waste time in giving a pleasant, but restrained smile.

"Yes ma'am; and you must be HG?"

"I suppose I must be."

She has a tired flicker in her eye; Steve notes this more weightedly than her dry, self-deprecating wit.

 

HG and Steve let the statement lie, both subtley turning back to their former positions; this allows Myka to lean towards HG in a way that, with Myka's long limbs and wide eyes, is almost comical. 

"Are you alright, Helena?"

She doesn't whisper, but Myka's voice is undeniably tender, and Steve's curiosity battles his shame at bearing witness to the underlying intimacy.

"Yes, dear-heart, just a bit slow in dressing this morning. Still quite a bit new at this, I'm afraid." 

She smiles an easy, unforced smile that doesn't reach her tired eyes. Myka isn't appeased. From Steve's point of view, she looks quite close to grabbing HG by the ear and dragging her out: this scene is very easy to imagine, after Jane Lattimer's infrequent (but memorable) stays at the B&B.

HG wavers for a second, as if she too senses a scolding. She's released from Myka's unwavering analysis by Claudia.

"Oh, c'mon-at least you don't have to wear corsets any more!"

HG chuckles and the two engage in a comfortable banter. Steve isn't sure whether or not to return to his breakfast or continue to observe his co-workers.


	2. PG-13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Artie! And Claudia's POV!

HG doesn't look so hot. 

And I don't mean like, in the usual way. Uh, she may practically be the badass, scientific, experienced mother I never had and all, but you can't deny that she's smokin' hot. Even Steve could see that. 

But fangirling aside, she really doesn't look all that great. She's somehow paler than usual (if she weren't just British BEFORE being statue-ified, she'd definitely been sun-deprived by then.) and her cheeks are all red; sort of like Myka's with HG ever since she got back, actually...but those two being oblivious is normal. Rudolph the red nosed time traveler is not. (Did I mention her nose is red? Because it is. I think I even saw her sniffle a second ago.)

Coloring aside, she looks, for lack of a better word, hella tired. Hell(en)a tired. Huh. That one could use some work.

Oh, Artie's here. I don't get muuuch of an opening act, because he starts going off about assignments before I get to have my fun with him. Oh wait, he's stopped.

"You. What's wrong with you."

He's pointing at HG, and his eyebrows are doing that thing where they cover his eyes so you can't see any emotion he might, hypothetically, have showing under there. Or maybe not. He just looks angry. But then again, it is Artie.

HG, though, looks a little taken aback. She's done that nearly unnoticeable thing with her shoulders where they're just the tiniest bit thrown back, as is her hair, with a slight shake; all of which makes it easy to see her as a pridefully wounded animal. Like a lion, for example. Can't deny the mane.

ANYWAY…she starts to get defensive for a sec, I can tell, but then she concedes, and rolls her eyes like a teenager…Man, between the two of us, Artie's sure up to his eyebrows. I'm also gonna ignore the irony of that statement and get back to this week's episode of our little soap opera.

"I assure you, Arthur, there is no cause for concern."

"I'll decide when there's cause for concern! And that wasn't the question!"

Oh wow, Artie's sure having a ball with this one. I'm pretty sure that half the times he goes off on us it's genuine, and the rest are just to make sure he can.

He can. Not without awakening Myka's wild-hair-quivering exasperation, though. Where her hand was inconspicuously over HG's before is now clenched, pinning it to the table and herself as she turns her attentions to Artie. Ooh, Artie, bad move. You should know better by now! I mean, this is almost exactly what happened when HG showed up the first time: I swear, the man never learns. 

"Arthur, I am merely...not up to dick, at the m- "

WAY TO KEEP IT PG, HG.

Myka's eyes bugged out, as they do; Pete looked like he was getting way too many ideas for even his liking, aaaaand Steve choked on his orange juice. Aw, and on my jacket, too! Way to go, Jinksy...

Wait, hold up, back to HG; WTF?

"Dude! Why you gotta disturb the PG-13?"

I have to ask. Because honestly, first the ~seduction eyes~ with her and...well, everyone-but mostly Myka-and now this! Such a horny old dinosaur-a goDDAMNED SEXUAL TYRANNOSAURUS; where was I again?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter: Leena, the observant.

LEENA POV

Artie's incoherent babbling, Claudia's verbal onslaught-

Oh, poor thing. She looks so tired and confused. 

I don't usually try to take charge with these situations, but I feel the need to say something; before I realize it, I'm stepping forward and glaring at Artie, which acts like a domino effect in silencing the others. Or at least getting them to speak one at a time.

"Helena?"

Strongly resisting the urge to crouch down, soothe her and feel her forehead, I speak to Helena.

She looks up with pitiful, bleary eyes. 

"You mean to say you aren't feeling well, right?"

I can sense her aura flare at being patronized-going from watery pale to the blue found at the base of a flame-but she nods nonetheless.

Without saying it-at least one of us would suffer from her embarrassment-I look into her eyes. 

Why don't you just head upstairs and lie down? 

I feel the words send out of my mind loud and clear, but Helena ducks her head. Her mind's either closed off to mine or she simply ignores me. The blush on her cheeks is returning-albeit not healthily-so it's safe to assume she's just humiliated. That, and her squirming.

Myka's aura's shifted as well: it's pulsing, more gently than earlier, where it flared at Artie. 

She shifts, ever so slightly, and looks at Helena. Her gaze is not met. 

Beside me, Artie softens. His aura, at least-to the others he most likely looks uncomfortable. (Which, admittedly, he somewhat is.)

"Well...take the day off. Or something. Pete, Steve, you're doing inventory."

With his anticlimactic end, Artie turns around and stomps off. On his way, he turns to throw back:

"And I expect to see the rest of you at work ASAP!"

Looking back, the entire table looks unsettled. Pete's looking at Myka, Myka and Claudia are looking at Helena, and Helena and Steve are doing an impressive job of looking nowhere and everywhere, respectively. That is, until Steve stands up and claps his hands together.

"Looks like we should get started, Pete."

Like that, the bubble of abnormal tension pops. Pete groans.

"aw, c'mon Jinksy..."

With a fleeting glance to HG, Claudia pops up.

"While you two are having fun with that, I will be seeing how much I can defile Artie's whiteboard before he notices. Let's move!"

Pete mumbles his way out the door as Steve makes his way after Claudia...more slowly than usual. Interesting.

Looking back to Helena, she seems both relieved and tense at being left with Myka. With the boys (and Claudia) gone, I know there's much less chance she'll be horribly embarrassed by what I'm about to do. 

I make my way over to her chair to feel her forehead. It's warmer than I'd guessed. She winces but doesn't question my actions.

"Helena, is there anything specific I can get you before Myka takes you up to bed?"

This gets a quick glance from Myka and a little shake of the head from Helena. Poor thing. With only myself and Myka present, she's wilted. Her exhaustion is obvious as wasn't visible before...her impeccable posture has slackened and she's almost curling into herself. 

I put a hand on Myka's shoulder as I leave to start preparing and collecting remedies for my ill friend. I don't have to nod when Myka looks up at me; I can tell my eyes say enough.

Walking away, I hear the sound of two chairs scraping behind me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too happy with this one, but anyway...fave chapter (hopefully) coming up!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand...Baby intro to Myka's POV!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's super short, but I wanted to assure yall I hadn't forgotten about this.

And then there were two. 

I stood up and rested a hand of the back of her chair. Helena peered up at me with weak eyes, but forced the tension off of her face. She sighed as she rose.

"Well. They've all gone and given me quite the cheek ache, haven't they?"

I laughed nervously: she looked so weary as she said this, I didn't have the heart to tell her I had no idea what she meant. Note: Research period typical slang at appropriate time. I placed my hand on her upper back as she began to walk, rubbing small circles. Not 20 seconds after she had arisen, Helena tripped and nearly collapsed on nothing. She wheezed out an "Oh my" as I seized her from skittering across the hardwood floor and into my arms.

"Helena, are you alright?"

She was tense--holding herself with what I assumed to be the minimum energy required to not collapse. Her breaths were shaky, but I was still rather glad to hear them.

We stood like that for a short while: both Helena and I waiting for her dizzy spell to pass. It did not. With Helena still shivering in my arms over minute later, I resigned myself to what I was going to do.

"Alright, Helena-"

My voice took on an authoritative tone that did not quite match the affectionate gaze I was unintentionally projecting. 

I almost felt bad for being so clinical and efficient as I quickly swept the shaky woman up and into a fireman's hold, but... I think this is the only way I can do this. 

Tender caresses and lovely elegance just wouldn't do right now.

"-here we go, it's alright, I've got you..."

...but there's nothing wrong with a little compassion... What was intended to be a stoic resolution was softening by the second.

 

Of course, I forgot all of my inhibitions and stiffened when Helena nuzzled into my collarbone with a cheeky little murmur. Her hands then clutched at my blouse almost childishly. Looking down made my heart stutter-Helena looked nothing like her usual composed self, yet this rumpled alteration seemed almost more genuine. Her hair, usually a smooth rolling inky sea now reflected more choppy waters. The impeccable ivory skin that likens her beauty to that as untouchable as the figure of a goddess was tainted by a sickly pallor: her sharp nose was rosy, and smushed against my front. Her soft orchid-colored lips were parted, and I could feel her soft breaths cause the ever so slight fluttering of my button-down shirt.

Her head tossed, and suddenly her half open eyes bored into mine. I came to the realization that we had reached the second floor.

"Shall we retire to your bedchamber, or mine?"


	5. Escalation?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Super cheesy, kinda nasty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *****WARNING!!!****
> 
> Almost graphic mentions of vomit here, so serious warning for those with emetophobia or who would just like to avoid it.
> 
> Also, still Myka's POV

With Helena practically clinging to me, it was difficult to stifle a laugh at her attempted insinuation. What would have normally been a cool and sultry tone was dampened by her slightly evident congestion, and the casual tone was ironic, as she had one arm wrapped round my mid-center, and the other lying heavily on my shoulder. I forced back a snicker as I met her watery, imploring gaze.

“Well,” I withheld the impulse to run my hands through my hair, and instead cleared my throat. “Wherever you feel more comfortable.”

A hazy look of contemplation lingered before the (remaining) color drained from her face, and she choked out-

“My bedder-”

-Before hurriedly staggering to her door, thrusting it open, and disappearing inside. Even if I hadn’t hurried after her, it would have been obvious what was happening.

The unmistakeable sound of retching greeted me as I rushed through the doorframe. The source was slumped over the wastebasket, heaving and sputtering. I approached slowly, and involuntarily winced. Her shoulders jerked as she dry heaved violently--my heart clenched with every heave, watching her tremble and cough. Something near pity resonated as her suddenly frail form seized. I crouched beside her and began to gently rub her back and try to soothe her with meaningless shushing.

“Shhh, shh, it’s okay…” She jerked forward again. “...uh, okay, that’s alright, let it all out.” Nothing came to mind but panic and woe as I struggled to remember what my mother had said to soothe me in illness as a child.

Eventually she finished--bowing her head and sagging limply. A small sniffle brought me out of my stupor. I collected her in my arms as gently and carefully as possible, not wanting to further upset her stomach. With a strange reverence, I padded to the bed. As I began to lay her down, I couldn’t help but think This is like a movie: God, Claudia would love this. I mused. Aside from the smell. As I separated to go assess the damage, a small whine made me freeze. Slowly, I pressed a kiss to Helena’s fevered forehead, and she gently succumbed to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so not my best work...any and all constructive criticism is MORE than welcome: I'm a really amateur writer, so anything helps. I will cherish and absorb almost any stupid tip you can provide. With that being said, I'm sorry for the wait and the brevity of the chapter itself. Thanks for sticking with me!

**Author's Note:**

> Did you find all the Victorian slang? Post in the comments!
> 
> The next chapter will continue from where this one left off, but the rest may be either an assortment of one shots or ficlets with the same major theme but different plots; I don't know whether or not I should put these as chapters, or separate posts in a collection or series. Thoughts?


End file.
